To dream and to labour: to you, my labour; to Ruth, my dreams. “This is my way back to my side of the Park,” she said. ” He was suddenly resentful. ‘Get out! Out, I say! Think I want another miserable cowardly good-for-nothing wastrel on my hands? Begone! Out of my house!’ He drove them to the door, grimly satisfied when the girl’s nerve broke. ’ ‘Yes, but I’m afraid I am far too interested to stop mixing myself in your affairs,’ Gerald said ruefully. ‘What do you want with me? Why did you catch me?’ ‘You intrigue me,’ he told her frankly. He was a civil servant of some standing, and after a previous conversation upon aesthetics of a sententious, nebulous, and sympathetic character, he had sent her a small volume, which he described as the fruits of his leisure and which was as a matter of fact rather carefully finished verse. The phone did not ring. "You see?" Ruth said. ’ She had given nothing away. “What ought you to do?” He began to produce his knowledge of the world for her benefit, jerkily and allusively, and with a strong, rank flavor of “savoir faire.
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